Night in the City
While light is essential to photography, at times the absence of light can make for more intense photos. And dark is, if nothing else, the absence of light.
Cities are transformed when darkness descends. Things either lose color or become intensely colorful. The streets gets loud, or extremely quiet. The air changes, the feel of the world changes, the energy changes. The sky is not quite black, still lit from the street, city, bridge, boat lights. But if you look closely, there are stars, faint pin pricks of light still visible, guiding you home.
Charleston is a night city. The alleys and thoroughfares, in warm weather, are packed with strolling couples after a late dinner, families pushing strollers with sleeping children, and party-goers out on the town. Intermixed with the tourists are the locals and the college students, fed by nearby Citadel and College of Charleston. High heels click across cobblestones, warm breezes catch the ends of hair, left to wisp in the wind. Trails of cologne, perfume, cigarette & cigar smoke linger around every corner. Laughter emanates from windows open to the fall air, still humid and balmy, hoping to catch the distinct scent of dark and the undercurrent, rapid pulse, of the night. Charleston comes alive. And everything looks different.
Cities are transformed when darkness descends. Things either lose color or become intensely colorful. The streets gets loud, or extremely quiet. The air changes, the feel of the world changes, the energy changes. The sky is not quite black, still lit from the street, city, bridge, boat lights. But if you look closely, there are stars, faint pin pricks of light still visible, guiding you home.
Charleston is a night city. The alleys and thoroughfares, in warm weather, are packed with strolling couples after a late dinner, families pushing strollers with sleeping children, and party-goers out on the town. Intermixed with the tourists are the locals and the college students, fed by nearby Citadel and College of Charleston. High heels click across cobblestones, warm breezes catch the ends of hair, left to wisp in the wind. Trails of cologne, perfume, cigarette & cigar smoke linger around every corner. Laughter emanates from windows open to the fall air, still humid and balmy, hoping to catch the distinct scent of dark and the undercurrent, rapid pulse, of the night. Charleston comes alive. And everything looks different.
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